


entanglement

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Awkward Declarations of Feelings, Getting Together, Guilt, Jedi Code, M/M, Pining, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-25 04:03:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: Poe had the self-preservation instincts of a moth near an open flame.These days, Luke wasn’t much better.





	entanglement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musamihi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musamihi/gifts).



Poe smiled at Luke from the edge of the clearing Luke had set up for himself, perched on one of the flattish rocks that circled the perimeter. His toes grazed the ground as he kicked at the dirt and if Luke didn’t know any better—which he did, being a Jedi Knight offered perks and drawbacks aplenty, and this was one of them: he did know better—he’d have thought Poe was happy to be there. But Poe’d caught him in the middle of meditating; it was impossible not to feel Poe’s nervous energy, his impatience, as a discordant chord in what was otherwise a peaceful, pleasant spot.

“Poe.” Climbing to his feet on legs that were growing less flexible by the day, he dusted the knees of his breeches. “How are you?”

Poe’s eyes glinted, knowing. _You already know_ , he didn’t say. They’d talked about this before, the risks Poe ran when he came out here. And though Luke had taught him techniques for how to block unwanted scrutiny through the Force—that was the first thing that’d brought them together, for reasons that still left a residue of guilt on Luke’s heart—he never used them with Luke. “Could be worse,” he answered, because Luke had long ago insisted that he not let Luke take advantage of his own skills. “How’s it going out here?”

“Could be worse,” Luke said, teasing, taking the same tone Poe had. Approaching his wayward… whatever it was Poe was to him, he grabbed his robe from Poe’s arms. It was folded neatly until Luke shook it out and shrugged into it.

Offering a proprietary look that raked up and down Luke’s body, Poe merely grinned wider. “You forgot it back at the base,” he explained. “It gets cold out here.”

That was true, but Luke never failed to forget that no matter how often he came to this place. The Force could do a lot of things, but reminding Luke to bring the right equipment along wasn’t always one of them. “You didn’t have to tromp all this way to bring it to me. It was my fault for forgetting it.”

Poe’s grin dimmed and his eyes cut to the ground between them. His heels kicked back against the rock once before he hopped down. “I know.” His eyelashes fanned against his cheeks, obscured his gaze. “But I wanted to.”

Sighing, Luke brushed his hand over his cheek. The beard he continued to wear despite Leia’s complaints prickled against his palm and rasped lightly, almost comforting as his thoughts raced. The Force twined around Poe and twisted out of Luke’s grasp. Poe wasn’t unhappy. He wasn’t even disappointed. But he did clap Luke on the shoulder and stepped around him and kicked at the dusty pathway that lead away from the small, private field. The charming, brilliant grin he’d worn before failed him entirely. It was a bare twitch now, a tic in his cheek, easily missed by someone who wasn’t looking—and Luke? Luke was always looking.

Luke had made a mistake here. More than one probably.

Well, he certainly couldn’t say it the first he’d ever made. It wouldn’t be the last. A better Jedi would do what had to be done after all. He wouldn’t put all his credits on making another one. “Poe,” he said, acutely aware that Poe deserved better than what Luke could give him. “Wait.”

There was a time when he’d believed attachments were the unequivocal key to redeeming the Jedi way. Love could protect where unexamined dogma could not. But love birthed Darth Vader just as easily as it brought Anakin Skywalker back. Love sent a son to Luke who only wanted to remain with his mother and father, who would do poorly in such isolated conditions as Luke offered. Love stopped Luke from questioning that action and his own part in it, love for a nephew and for a sister and for a friend made brother-in-law.

Now he knew the truth and it was this: there were no keys in this galaxy, no universal truths, no protection that love could give that couldn’t be taken away again. He’d loved his students. He’d grown to love teaching them about the Force.

They were gone now. All of them.

And he’d have rather remained on Ahch-To than ever again offer to show anyone the skills he’d spent so many years honing.

For people like him? It was too dangerous.

He understood the Jedi far too well now. And though he didn’t agree with their tenets in their entirety, he couldn’t find a middle ground that worked. The Jedi survived for thousands of years following the Code. Luke’s school? Barely an indrawn breath compared to that.

The hell of it was he wasn’t unaware or unschooled in expressions of love. People sometimes got the wrong idea about that—not Poe, not Rey or Finn or Leia or Chewie either, of course, but others—and mistook targeted, purposeful ignorance for the genuine article. But Luke wasn’t naïve anymore, hadn’t been in years.

It would have required a fool to not see what Poe wanted from him and for him.

 _And only a fool would take him up on it_ , he thought.

Luke should have put an end to this a long time ago. What Poe felt… he’d thought it was merely an infatuation. A minor inconvenience for both of them. Easily resolved when Luke failed to reciprocate. Except it never resolved and Poe remained as steadfast today as he’d been the first time he sat across from Luke in the mess hall after Leia had given him the dressing down of his life for taking so long to come back—while Poe stood sentinel nearby, his arms crossed, face blank, mind whirling in the background of Luke’s awareness.

“My mom said you were a good man,” he’d said, no longer that sentinel. His tray had clattered to the table and Luke remembered worrying that his meal would end up in a slop across the duraplast if Poe wasn’t more careful. He’d thrust his hand across the table, heedless. “And I’m going to trust her judgment. Poe Dameron. Nice to meet you, Master Skywalker.”

Luke didn’t remember what he’d said in response, but he presumed it hadn’t been complimentary to himself. Poe stuck around anyway.

That was Poe’s problem. He always stuck around.

He could learn something from the Jedi about letting go. It might actually serve him well.

Luke’s heart throbbed with regret, his nerves getting the better of him. Releasing his worries to the Force had gotten less treacherous over the years, required less exertion, but right now, anyone would think he was back in the early days, alone and trying to make himself into the Jedi he would become, not even Master Yoda’s teachings yet offered to him.

Poe didn’t help, standing there and staring at Luke the way he did, so open it was painful to look at him and _see everything_. If Luke wasn’t sure that Poe wasn’t doing it on purpose, he might have said something about the unfairness of it, might’ve considered it manipulative. It was impossible for Luke to offer that much of himself in return. It wasn’t safe for anyone that he do so, least of all Poe. But Poe wasn’t asking for that in return.

He never _asked_ for anything. He just did what he was going to do and let the chits fall where they would. Reciprocation had never been the point for him.

“Luke?” Poe asked finally, since Luke hadn’t said anything yet. Still didn’t know what to say if he was being honest. He’d never know probably. Poe took an aborted step forward, a half-formed motion that had him rocking back instead when he decided against it. “What is it?”

Luke wanted to let himself have what Poe offered. So much so that he ached with it. The hole in his chest where his purpose once sat was waiting to be filled. It would be easy to take that offer of absolution and hoard it for himself. Poe gave so much of himself to everything he did and everyone he cared about, he probably wouldn’t even notice what Luke was doing. Force, he’d probably welcome it.

Poe had the self-preservation instincts of a moth near an open flame.

These days, Luke wasn’t much better.

“Thank you,” he said and he meant so much more than just the robe.

Of course, Poe realized it immediately. His chest puffed out just a little bit and he offered a wink, his shoulders squaring back with something approaching pride. There wasn’t anyone else on the base making so much effort for Luke after all, both of them knew it. “You’re welcome,” he said, ducking his head and wrapping his hand around the back of his neck. “I’ll let you get back to it.”

Poe took a step back toward the path leading down to the base, like he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye, but willing to do it for Luke’s sake anyway. It was the sensible thing to do and Luke should’ve let him do it.

“That’s—okay. You don’t have to go.”

Poe’s forehead furrowed and his mouth fell open in a small circle that he quickly shut. He crossed his arms, but he did as Luke asked, staying put and waiting, curious and maybe a little wary.

He had a right to be; Luke had never done this before. Always, he’d let Poe go, did nothing to encourage him. Yet still he came. What would he do now, Luke wondered, _with_ encouragement?

“What’s it, uh, like?” Poe asked, a little shyer than Luke had ever heard. He took a miniscule step forward and chafed his arms over his jacket. “When you meditate?”

Luke’s eyes closed as he thought about it, the distractions of his surroundings falling away for a brief moment. He opened his eyes again. “When you’re flying, do you ever feel like you know everything you’re going to do even if you haven’t really thought about it? All you have is your instincts and your certainty and the knowledge that there’s not a thing in space that’s going to stop you?”

It was a question Luke already knew the answer to. Poe was an X-wing pilot. Of course he knew. But the light of understanding entering his gaze was gratifying to see all the same. Ships were a point of common interest and Luke used to refuse to discuss them with Poe. It wasn’t like he needed more reasons to enjoy Poe’s company. He had far too many already.

“Yeah, of course.” Poe rolled his shoulders and adopted a serious, thoughtful expression. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Maybe.” Most of the pilots of Luke’s acquaintance talked about experiencing something similar anyway. It had made him feel closer to them back when he was still a pilot, too, back before he’d had to give that up to fulfill his role as the start of a new generation of Jedi. “It’s kind of like that.”

Poe took a handful of small, curious steps forward, no longer hesitant as he jammed his hands into his pockets. He always showed interest when Luke spoke about the Force, but he never pushed for details Luke didn’t want to give. “Sounds exhilarating.”

“It’s… unique. Overwhelming sometimes.”

Poe’s mouth formed a small, sympathetic smile, quiet, a smile that invited confidences. There were so few people Luke could confide in.

Poe felt like one of them.

No, Poe _was_ one of them. He trusted that more than he trusted so many things in life. It wasn’t even a question.

“Poe, I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” Poe answered, too quick to be anything other than eager. His features may have betrayed nothing of that fact, but Luke wasn’t fooled. Even through the Force, Luke sensed it. For whatever reason, Poe liked him.

‘Like’ was probably not the correct word for it. But allowing himself to think of it as anything more than that was fraught.

Poe deserved more than Luke thought he was capable of giving, but Poe was here anyway. Poe always ended up here.

He felt like a kid trying to ask his first crush out for a day in the canyons back on Tatooine.

Hauling in a deep breath, he reminded himself that he took no true risks here. He knew how Poe felt. He knew how he himself felt. And even if Poe turned him down, there’d be no hard feelings on either side.

And yet, he faced the same foibles and vanities anyone else might have faced. Nerves, it seemed, stuck even the most venerable of Jedi.

Leia would laugh at him if she was here. But since she wasn’t, he could pretend he didn’t know that about her.

Of all the things he’d expected to face when he came back, this was decidedly not one of them. “I…” He brushed his palms down his sides. “Would you want to share a meal with me? When we get back?”

Glancing down, Poe scuffed his boot across the grass, and when he raised his eyes again, Luke only saw them through the dark sweep of his eyelashes. “I would,” he said quickly. His brow arched high on his forehead. “You’re okay with that?”

“I think that should be my line.”

Poe nodded several times in quick succession and treated the statement with as much seriousness as he found necessary. Which, given how quickly he dismissed Luke’s response, suggested very little of it was. “I know what I’m signing up for.” He bounced on the balls of his feet and grinned more freely than he usually did around Luke. “Force help me, I like you. And I’m not afraid of that. I don’t think you should be either.” Now that Luke had given him an opening, he seemed determined to fight all the way to the finish. “I know the old Jedi code forbade attachments and you’ve been struggling with that. You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want to warn me off—”

“That’s not true.” It was, Luke realized, a little bit true. He had done that, back when he’d wanted to twist Poe’s interest away from him and back toward more viable alternatives.

Poe leveled a stare so effective, Luke cut himself off. It was, possibly, true. After a pause, Poe said, “Uh huh. The point is I get it. I do. I respect that. And if you decide it’s not worth it, I get that, too. I won’t make it weird, but I refuse to believe it would hurt that much to try. I don’t mind taking the chance here if you don’t.” His words were so earnest that it was almost painful. He brushed his hand through his hair, breaking up the curls that fell across his forehead while a wince crossed his features. He didn’t speak for a moment, but the pause that hung in the air wasn’t long by anyone’s standards. “That was overkill, wasn’t it?”

Luke’s lip twitched, but he tried to keep a straight face anyway. “A little bit.”

Huffing, Poe scratched at the underside of his jaw. Luke could give him this much: he could roll with just about anything. “I did say I like you.”

“You did.” And that meant a lot to Luke. It really did. Poe didn’t look at him the way others did. He didn’t treat Luke like he was old and fragile and moments from losing it under the weight of the grief he carried. He didn’t revere Luke and sometimes he wasn’t even impressed by him, not even when Luke did something impressive. “I certainly don’t doubt it now.”

“Ha,” Poe said, affecting a weak, self-deprecating tone. “That’s funny. You’re funny, did you know that? Hilarious.”

As Poe said, _the thing was_ … Poe wasn’t wrong about him, his relationship with the Jedi code, and his thoughts about attachments. He wasn’t wrong about any of it and it wasn’t fair that he was trying to console Luke on any of those points. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yeah,” Poe said, shrugging. “I’d like to give it a shot. What do you want to do?”

Luke mirrored Poe’s action, feigned ease. “Give it a shot, I suppose.” Despite all the reasons he could think of why they shouldn’t, none of them stood up now that Luke had broached the subject. He wanted this; Poe wanted this.

They’d muddle their way through together.

Luke never imagined himself giving in, but right now, he thought their chances were good anyway.


End file.
